Acceptance
by La Dame du Lac
Summary: "She doesn't understand. So he tells her who he is. He relates the tale of a hundred years spent inflicting pain and spilling blood, he describes her who he was before the change and what he became after." Answer to a prompt of the Bamon Fest 2011 at LJ


**_Title:_**_ Acceptance_

**_Rating:_**_ PG_

**_Prompt from the__ Bamon Fest 2011 at LJ: _**_Within the context of an established relationship, an unexpected demonstration of unconditional acceptance by __**skysamuelle**_

_**Author Notes/Warning:** this is un-betaed (didn't want to bother someone for something that's maybe going to be a one-off). If there are glaring mistakes feel free to tell me (nicely because I bruise easily ^_^) English is not my birth language (which is French, by the way) __so I hope I didn't butcher it too badly – there is only so much Word's spell checker can do. And if you took the time to read this THANK YOU! _

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She doesn't understand. That's why he has to explain to her - in details – that he won't be the good guy everyone want him to be, he can't be (and he tried enough time to be certain of the fact); the sooner she learn it the better because one of this day he is going to screw up and she is not going to forgive him. It's better for both of them really if she backs out now – less mess to clean up afterwards this way.

So he tells her who he is.

He relates the tale of a hundred years spent inflicting pain and spilling blood, he describes her who he was before the change and what he became after. He doesn't spare her any gruesome details, figures she needs the whole picture even if it kills him a little to watch her flinch and try to hide her disgust.

"_It's better this way", _say a little voice in his head but it doesn't stop the sickly feeling inside his gut. And really he has always despised this sentiment the most.

He tells her about the pleasure, the blood, the suffering, the killing, the sensation of control and she doesn't shy away from his madman gaze. She doesn't run to the door or try to set him on fire and he pursue his little confession by explaining her how he'll never be like Stephan - he doesn't want to be because his little brother is all mind over urges or something like that, whereas himself has never been good with control even when he was human. He's got more predatory instinct than philosophical mind.

That's why he was the one to kill this measly journalist who had been poking his nose through their business for far longer than he liked and had gone as far as to threaten everyone who knew the Salvatore's secret. His little brother had of course stomped is foot at the idea of violence but when the talking and ultimately the compelling had failed Damon had taken matters into his own hands.

When he has finally announced that the noisy newsman wouldn't be a problem anymore, Stephan had frowned, Elena had given him her well practiced "I'm going to keep looking at you until you feel sooo guilty" stare and his little witch …well, he hadn't let her talk. He had sped up to his room in order to avoid her judgy eyes and, when she had followed him in, had launched into his tirade before letting a word past her lips.

Now he is nearly finished and the harder has yet to be said.

Unexpectedly the words slide past his lips more easily than any of the others, like he has rehearsed it a thousand times before (and in his head he has - in the quiet hour where she is dreaming and he is still clawing at sleep). He can't watch her anymore after he is done, don't want to see the emotions that are playing (or not) on her face.

The silence fills the air and he can feel her stare pinning him in place as surely as her magic would.

Finally she gets up from her spot on his bed and approaches him. Unable to move he just watch as her feet grow closer until she is just standing an inch away from him. The warmth of her hand on his cheek brands him as surely as iron and he forces his own to stay still at his side. Soft fingers glides against the curve of his jaw, tilting his chin up until blue eyes meet green without resistance. The look in them makes his unnecessary breath stop; too many emotions swirling in the emerald pools to make him sure of anything else other than the love she feels for him.

I'm not going anywhere, she assures him quietly.

The shock must have registered on his face because he feel one of her fingertip traces the line of his eyebrow in the loving way she usually reserve to their intimate moments.

I'm not happy about this man's death but I get it. He crossed the line when he threatened to expose us and no amount of reasoning could've changed his mind. He would have done it and we would have been in danger. We protect our own no matter what. So … I get it.

And she really does. He wonders how she can when even his brother has trouble to. He is at loss and she sees it because she is wearing this little smile she always has whenever he is left speechless. Rising on her tiptoes she touches her forehead to his and locks her arms behind his neck as he snakes his around her waist carefully, still half numb with relief.

You've made your point clear but I'm not leaving you. I didn't step into this – _us_ - blindly like you seem to think. I chose _you_ because I _want_ you – good and bad.

Bonnie's lips find their way to his and he can breath again.

I'm not going anywhere.

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End**


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